Fixer-upper
How brightly gleams the check-engine light.
“Open up your ears and hearts:
You put a big bird in a small cage and he’ll sing you a song.”-Patrick Watson
I had some car troubles turn mind-troubles in Pittsburgh over the weekend.
The Jeep’s fuel injector has gone wonky and it started shivering and yawing in traffic on Sunday, idling with great frustration at red lights.
For those hassles, it’s absolutely fine when you’re cruising down the highway at 70 miles-per-hour. Things only get dicey when you have to take it slow.
It makes me wonder if maybe I couldn’t use a new fuel injector. I’m also pretty discontent to idle. Racing at furious speeds in a thousand directions delights me, but being stuck in the moment has me all stalled out.
READ ON…
I’ve been afflicted with impatience and an inability to sit still since about the time I started kindergarten. I’m a chronic fidgeter, a night-wanderer, a planter of strange magic beans. This disposition has gotten me into to my share of jams, but has also set me on some pretty amazing adventures.
I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t going full-throttle, packing my possessions for the next big move. Right now, it’s the waiting game: phone interviews and tucked-in shirts and resume attachments.
The dainty job courtship hasn’t changed the fact that I’m the usual bundle of frenetic nerves, bouncing between Washington, West Virginia and Pennsylvania. I’ve tried to fill the downtime by hitting the gym, crocheting hats and doing culinary experiments on my parents. I’ve read nearly everything in the house, including several issues of Reader’s Digest.
I’m pretty good at finding ways to stay occupied, however short my attention span may be. But I’m also the girl who stays up all night reading because she can’t stand not knowing what comes next. It’s why I had to quit watching The Wire for the last few months of grad school. I’m dying to find out what the next episode might bring.
Here’s the thing– the future needn’t be certain. In fact, it’s better that way because I find that excitement almost always trumps predictability. What I want is some momentum, the illusion of forward motion if not the actuality. But who knows, maybe something fruitful will come of all this pacing the house and blogging philosophic. After all, as Mr. Watson says:
